


Embers

by 2000percentgenuine, Courier_Stupid



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout - Fandom, Fallout 3
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Partners to Lovers, will add tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26884294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2000percentgenuine/pseuds/2000percentgenuine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courier_Stupid/pseuds/Courier_Stupid
Summary: A young man no older than twenty stood in the doorway of the bar. He had large doe eyes the color of amber and honey, the dim lighting of the bar making the orbs glimmer like the embers of a dying flame, as well as revealing the hidden mischievous glint behind them. His frame was short and scrawny, but he lacked the wiry muscles that most wastelanders had. His vault suit clung loosely to his frame, the bright blue and gold of the suit clashing with his unnaturally pale skin and unkempt ginger hair.The vault dweller had guts to walk into the city of ghouls so confidently while so obviously lacking any real experience of what the world outside the vault was truly like.
Relationships: Charon & Lone Wanderer, Charon (Fallout)/Lone Wanderer, Charon (Fallout)/Male Lone Wanderer, Charon (Fallout)/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 7





	Embers

**Author's Note:**

> The vault dweller had guts to walk into the city of ghouls so confidently while so obviously lacking any real experience of what the world outside the vault was truly like.

_Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty..._

Charon absentmindedly counts the tiles on the ceiling for god knows how long, bored out of his mind. Nothing particularly eventful has happened in weeks. The lack of excitement was agonizing.

_Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three…_

Charon glanced over at Ahzrukhal. Ever since Ahzrukhal had gotten ahold of his contract, a majority of his time had been spent wasting away in the corner of a bar. The first few days held his attention, but eventually the tasks became mind-numbingly boring as the days blended together into one long stretch of time, completely forgetting the specific amount of time spent with his current employer. Charon noticed that as the hours blended together, the people did too. Eventually, the faces of the patrons entering and leaving the bar were no longer important. While he would at least memorize what they looked like so he could remember if they ever caused trouble, after that he would avoid any type of eye contact like the plague. It is personal and intimate; something he does not have time for.

_Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six…_

The familiar sound of The Ninth Circle’s doors swinging open with a loud squeak reached Charon’s ears as he and other patrons glanced over to see who was entering the bar. He looked up at the newcomer.

A young man no older than twenty stood in the doorway of the bar. He had large doe eyes the color of amber and honey, the dim lighting of the bar making the orbs glimmer like the embers of a dying flame, as well as revealing the hidden mischievous glint behind them. His frame was short and scrawny, but he lacked the wiry muscles that most wastelanders had. His vault suit clung loosely to his frame, the bright blue and gold of the suit clashing with his unnaturally pale skin and unkempt ginger hair.

The vault dweller had guts to walk into the city of ghouls so confidently while so obviously lacking any real experience of what the world outside the vault was truly like. Ten seconds later Charon realizes he is staring, a rather unusual occurrence for him. Before he can turn away and pretend nothing happened, the ginger notices his icy gaze and smiles a large toothy grin as he approaches Charon with a friendliness that he has not seen even remotely pointed at him in decades.

“Hello! I’m-”

“Talk to Ahzrukhal.” Charon replied shortly.

The vault dweller puffs up a little in agitation. “Excuse me, it’s rude to interrupt someone when they speak!” the boy spoke in an accent foreign to Charon, the thickness of it making him sound much more annoyed than he actually was.

Everyone turned to gape at the vault dweller. Nobody--especially not some scrawny kid--had ever had the bravery to speak to Charon in such a tone. The boy was stupid, but he had guts. Charon scowled and opened his mouth to say something, but was stopped short by Ahzrukhal stepping out from behind the bar to walk over to the vault dweller and place a hand on his shoulder. 

"Don't mind Charon, he’s not much good for conversation. The oaf probably can’t understand a word of what we’re saying.” Ahzrukhal says in a cheerful voice, using his friendly tone to hide the glare he shoots at Charon. He turns himself and the vault dweller around to guide the both of them to the bar. Charon did not say anything to Ahzrukhal, but the vault dweller didn’t miss Charon digging his nails into his folded arms.

* * *

Seán glanced behind him one last time before letting the new ghoul guide him to the bar. Seán sits down and turns to the new ghoul.

“I guess I should introduce myself! I’m Seán, Seán McCollin. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr…?”

“Ahzrukhal. As you can probably guess, I’m the owner of this bar.” Ahzrukhal’s voice is rough like most other ghouls, the rasp making the faux-friendliness of his tone much easier to spot.

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Ahzrukhal.” Seán reaches over the bar to shake Ahzrukhal’s hand, and he thankfully returns the gesture. 

Seán lets go of Ahzrukhal’s hand and glances back at Charon. He hasn’t moved an inch from the corner. “So who’s that guy in the corner? Is he your bouncer or something?” He asks Ahzrukhal.

“That’s Charon. Let’s just say… well, he’s a loyal employee. Don’t mess with me, and he won’t mess with you.” Ahzrukhal replies.

“He doesn’t say much, does he?” Seán jokes lightly.

“His company is rather refreshing, isn’t it? But don’t mistake his brevity for stupidity. That would be very unwise.” Ahzrukhal answers.

Seán was already getting very bad vibes from Ahzrukhal. He has not been in the wasteland for long. He knows, however, that you should never trust anyone on your first meeting.

Seán tilts his head in mild curiosity. “He’s your loyal employee? What do you mean?”

Ahzrukhal smirks. “I hold his contract, which makes me his employer. He will do what I ask when I ask, without question.” the ghoul boasts. “You see, Charon grew up around a very interesting group of individuals. They… well, I guess you could say that they brainwashed him. He is absolutely loyal to whomever holds his contract. Unfailing, unflinching, until the day that employment ends.”

Seán’s eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. This was setting off multiple alarms inside his head. Nothing about this “agreement” sounded fair. “So he’s your slave?” he asked slowly.

Ahzrukhal put a hand on his chest in what seemed to be mock offense. “No, he is not. Sir, you insult me. I do not believe in slavery. It is an abomination.” Ahzrukhal continued, “I am a firm believer in personal choice. To force another person into bondage is unthinkable. Chains are earned, never forced. Charon made some choices that landed him in my employ. The matters of our contract is between him and I -- no one else.” The last sentence was spoken with mild bitterness, a hidden warning at the end.

Seán wanted to yell at the ghoul about how his supposed arrangement with Charon was blatantly slavery, but he held his tongue. Seán pondered for a brief moment. Perhaps he could free Charon in some way? Maybe he could purchase the contract and then destroy it or hand it over to Charon?

Seán looks up at Ahzrukhal, the embers in his eyes kindling into a flame of determination. “Can I talk to you about Charon’s contract?”

Ahzrukhal raises his brow. “Oh? Would you now? He is a highly valuable asset to me and the Ninth Circle. What did you have in mind?” 

Seán thinks for a second. “How does 1,000 caps sound?”

Ahzrukhal barks out a short laugh, unimpressed. “You’re kidding, right? He’s worth much more than that. 2,000 caps, take it or leave it.”

Seán winces internally at the price. He has a plentiful amount of caps to spare -- an amount he’s willing to spend -- but he’ll still need enough left over if he wants to be able to eat. Although, saving someone’s life is more important than that. Seán reaches out to shake Ahzrukhal’s hand once again. “It’s a deal.”

Ahzrukhal grins and returns the handshake, then reaches into the front pocket of his suit and pulls out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Seán. “Here’s the contract. I’ll take my payment in full. I’ll give you the pleasure of informing Charon yourself.”

Seán takes the contract from Ahzrukhal then retrieves his backpack to grab the assorted bags of caps, sliding them across the bar towards Ahzrukhal. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Ahzrukhal.” Seán plasters as convincing of a smile he can muster on his face.

Seán stands up, takes a deep breath, and turns around and walks back to the corner towards Charon. Here goes nothing.

“Hey again! I-“

“Talk to Ahzrukhal.” Charon says without skipping a beat.

Seán chuckles quietly. “Slow down, slow down! I have great news for you. I’m your new employer.”

Charon looks down at Seán, a faint hint of surprise flashing across his normally stoic features.

“You purchased my contract from Ahzrukhal? So I am no longer in his service. That is good to know. Please wait here, I must take care of something.” 

Seán flashes another smile at Charon. “Alright. No worries, take your time.”

Charon pushes himself off the wall and walks towards Ahzrukhal in large strides, making it to the other side of the bar in no time at all.

“I have been told you have sold my contract.”

Ahzrukhal smiles smugly at the larger ghoul. “That’s right, Charon. Have you come to say goodbye?”

“Yes.” Charon replies shortly. Drawing the shotgun off of his back, Seán’s eyes widen as he shoots Ahzrukhal at a point blank range once in the chest and head, the remains of Ahzrukhal spraying across the near vicinity. Shouts of alarm spread through the bar in waves, patrons scrambling out of their chairs towards the door.

Seán walks over towards Charon, the look of shock still plastered on his face when he turns to look at the ghoul. “Whoa. What the fuck was that?”

Charon looks down at the remains of Ahzrukhal and sneers. “Ahzrukhal was an evil bastard. So long as he held my contract, I was honor bound to do as he commanded.” he replies simply. Charon bends down and grabs the bags of caps from Ahzrukhal and then stands up, handing them to Seán.

“But now you are my employer, which freed me to rid the world of that disgusting rat. And now, for good or ill, I serve you.”

Seán shakes the shock off his face and the sickness in his stomach and accepts the bags from Charon. Looking up at him, he smiles. “Alright then, big guy. Guess it’s about time we hit the road, yeah? Probably wouldn’t be too wise to stick around after what just happened.”

Charon nods and readjusts the shotgun on his back as they walk out of The Ninth Circle and out of Underworld. It seems like life is about to get a little more interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I've never really written anything before (let alone a fanfic), so feedback is super appreciated. I don't know how long it'll take us to post the next chapter since we work pretty slow, but I guess look out for more stuff in the future :) -CS  
> Our Tumblrs are @Courierstyx and @Nuka-colacherry


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